Madness
by Trumpeteer34
Summary: A late-night phone call leads Jonathan Crane to wonder just how mad the Mad Hatter really is.
1. Chapter 1

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. Enjoy!

* * *

The streets of Old Gotham were completely dead, its inhabitants hiding in sleep until the break of dawn. The windows of all the buildings that lined the streets were dark; one would assume everyone was in bed, given the hour.

Assumptions of the common man were meaningless in this part of town. The common man was oblivious to the kind of lives people lived down in this forsaken area of Gotham. The norms of society were lost upon crossing over into Old Gotham; decent folks knew better than to come through here at night, let alone live here. People are afraid of what they don't understand. It was fear that drove them away.

It was the fear that pulled the Scarecrow in.

Jonathan Crane was sitting in an abandoned pharmacy, reading yesterday's newspaper. He found himself unable to fully concentrate on the newsprint. He was in a foul mood, as he had been for the past two days. He needed to be working on his toxins, not reading about things he _could_ do if he had his toxins ready _if_ he had the proper supplies.

With an irritated exhale, he tossed the paper to the littered floor to collect with other newspapers. He sat back in his chair and scowled at the wall across the room. His long fingers drummed across the arm cushions for a solid minute as he sat in silence, lost in his thoughts.

A series of rings shattered the silence and his thoughts. Jonathan sat up in his chair and eyed the contraption on his desk. His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was far too late for any advertisers to be calling, and only one other person had this phone number…

As another series of rings began, anger surged through him. He jumped up from his chair and snatched up the telephone.

"Jervis, this had better be good," Crane growled immediately into the phone.

A loud _**thunk **_sounded over the phone, making Jonathan pull the earpiece away for a moment. He glared at the phone before he drew a breath and geared himself up to interrupt the Englishman. When he returned the phone to his ear, however, he was met with silence. His tirade caught in his throat and he paused. That was odd; he had expected Jervis to respond immediately. Jonathan felt his brow furrow slightly and he listened to anything that could be heard over the phone. All he could hear was distant, frantic breathing.

"Jervis?" he asked.

He was answered by the sound of the phone being shifted along a surface. Over the crackles, he heard his name, voiced by a terrified Jervis Tetch. "Jervis, what's wrong?" Jonathan asked, sounding more concerned than he wished to. He heard what sounded like a car horn in the background. "Where are you?"

There was a suddenly silence as the phone became still. A length of time passed before Jonathan heard a short inhale. "I don't know," Jervis replied in a shaky voice.

Another length of silence passed. "…you don't know?" Jonathan repeated.

"No," Jervis answered, clearly sounding scared.

A number of different situations rapidly went through Jonathan's head. He moved the phone to his other ear. "Are you with anyone?" he asked after a pause.

"No," was the quiet response.

Jonathan kept the string of profanities to himself. "Okay," he began, feeling himself switch over into therapist-mode, "what happened?"

He cursed himself for not realizing this sooner. Jervis had started to become withdrawn about a week ago. They had planned a robbery at a scientific facility for supplies, but Jervis didn't show up, nor did he call. That was two days ago. He hadn't actually talked to or seen the Mad Hatter in the past week, which _never_ happened when they were both out of Arkham. He should have seen it sooner: Jervis was having a psychotic episode.

"Jervis," Crane repeated when no response came from the Englishman, "what happened?" Jonathan leaned back on his desk. "Where are you?"

"I _told_ you, I don't know where I am," Jervis said with somewhat of a bite to his words.

"No, are you in a phone booth, a building, what?" Jonathan clarified deliberately, hiding his irritation.

"…oh," Jervis mumbled, sounding apologetic. "I'm in a motel, I think."

Jonathan perked up as an idea struck him. "Okay, Jervis, do this for me. There should be some sort of brochure on a table or nightstand or something with the name of the city you are in on it. Can you find it?"

"No," Jervis immediately blurted out.

"Why not?" Jonathan huffed.

Crane heard the phone crackle a little, signifying that Jervis was moving. "Because it's in front of the looking glass," Jervis whispered into the receiver.

A beat passed before Jonathan raised a hand to massage his temple. This wasn't going to be simple in the least. "The looking glass?" he repeated skeptically.

"Yes, 'and certainly the glass _was_ beginning to melt away, just like a bright silvery mist'," Jervis recited in a hushed voice.

_'Great,'_ Jonathan thought to himself, _'he's delusional and hallucinating.' _He paused. _'Well, _more_ delusional than normal…'_ He cleared his throat. "Jervis, I can assure you that nothing will happen. You _need_ to find out where you are. The mirror won't suck you into a Looking-Glass world."

"But—"

"It _won't,_ Jervis."

"How can you be so sure? Have _you_ ever been through the looking glass?" Jervis asked. He took Jonathan's silence as a no. "Because I have, and 'it's _rather_ hard to understand!'"

_'I bet.'_ "Jervis, listen to me. You have to find out where you are. Now, you can brave the mirror and grab the brochure, or you can leave the safety of your room and ask someone. Take your pick."

They were both silent, Jonathan waiting for a decision that Jervis was trying to make.

Finally, Jervis spoke up. "You promise you won't hang up?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I promise."

"…okay." The crackles returned as Jervis put down the phone. Jonathan kept the phone pressed against his ear, straining to hear what was going on. He didn't hear a door open, so he guessed that Jervis was trying to get the brochure without seeing his reflection. Jonathan's fingers tapped upon the desk surface as he waited. In the background, he could hear Jervis talking to himself; he could only assume he was speaking in fragmented Lewis Carroll quotes.

After a minute or two, the crackles returned. "Hammond," Jervis finally answered.

"Hammond?" Jonathan repeated. "What _state_ are you in?"

"Um…" There was a shuffling of papers. The rustling suddenly stopped and there was a heavy silence on the other line. "…M-Minnesota."

Jonathan felt his jaw go slack as he was struck speechless for several moments. "Minnesota? What the _hell_ are you doing in Minnesota?"

"I was ch—" The Mad Hatter abruptly stopped talking and exhaled worriedly.

Another beat passed before Jonathan let out a sigh. He rubbed his eyes. "You were chasing the White Rabbit?"

"I was chasing something," Jervis piped up in his own defense. "I saw him in the newspaper and…" He trailed off, sounding unsure of himself. He sighed. "Jonathan, I was so sure I saw him. I don't know what's going on. I got off the train and—"

"Train?" Jonathan repeated. "How did you not get picked up by the police at the train station?"

"I'm not wearing my costume," Jervis said flatly.

_'Well, that's a relief,'_ Jonathan thought to himself. "So, you took a train to Hammond because you were chasing something?" he asked, trying to understand the situation.

"Well, I took a bus to here," Jervis corrected him, "but I did take a train out of Gotham."

"Just how long were you traveling before you called me?"

Another heavy silence filled the air. Jonathan sighed and let the question go unanswered. "Okay," he began, rubbing his temple, "what's the name of the motel?"

"…why?" the Englishman asked quietly.

"Well, I need to know what building I'm looking for," Jonathan said as if the answer were clear as day.

"Wait, what? Jonathan, no—"

"You shouldn't be traveling in your condition," Jonathan interrupted him. "Under different circumstances, I'd tell you to just come back the way you came, but you shouldn't be traveling alone at all. So, I repeat myself, what is the name of the motel?"

Jervis remained quiet for a good, long moment. Finally, he relented and gave up the information.

The rest of the call was brief. Jonathan repeatedly told the Englishman to remain where he was, no matter what. He should under no circumstances leave the motel. Jonathan wasn't even sure if he'd try to leave the room, but he needed to be certain that Jervis wouldn't start traveling again while he was on the train.

Jonathan hung up the phone and stood in silence for several moments, going over what had just happened in his head. He still didn't understand the full situation, but he didn't think he ever would. It only made sense in Jervis's mind, and even then, he was starting to question it. It was in that moment of lucidity that he had decided to call him. Had he not started to realize something was wrong, who knew where he could have ended up. He could only hope that Jervis stayed lucid long enough for Jonathan to make the trip, grab Jervis, and come back to Gotham.

His mind halted. Had he really just told Jervis that he was going to cross state lines to pick him up? What possessed him to do that?

Jonathan shook his head and went to go shut off the light. He needed to try to get some sleep before he began his travels, bright and early in the morning.

* * *

A/N: So, I realize it's been a while since I've posted anything (and I am reluctant to count _But a Dream_ as something posted. *shudder*), and I apologize for that. I've been busy with work and school and other nonsense. This has been my project for the past month and a half or so, off and on. I'm going to be posting chapters by breaks in the text, so the next chapter is going to be pretty short. Not to worry, though! Chapter 3 will be a pretty decent length. I'm not sure how long this is going to be, to be honest. I'm debating on where to end it. We'll see, I guess.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass._This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. Enjoy!

* * *

Jonathan sat with a book in his hands and a bag at his side, watching the scenery fly by over the rims of his reading glasses. The train ride had been a long one so far; he still had at least two more hours to go before he reached the proper station. He was honestly surprised that he had gotten onto the train without any problems whatsoever. He supposed that was one of the perks of being a masked villain, being able to slip around the public with minimal disguise and a fake ID.

He pulled the bill of his cap down over his eyes as a small family passed by. He was thankful that he had been left alone for the majority of the trip. Only the train-hand who had come to check his ticket had bothered him. Since then, he had been trying to occupy himself by reading a book, working on notes for his toxins, or staring out the window and getting lost in his thoughts.

He could only imagine what the train ride had been for Jervis in his hallucinatory state. Did no one notice him acting oddly? Or did Jervis manage to hold it together?

Jonathan shook his head and breathed a tired sigh. It would be a long day. He had been able to nab three hours of sleep before he had headed out to the train station. Even with the little he actually slept, he was uncertain if those three hours would be enough to deal with the long travel and Jervis. The train hadn't left until a little after five in the morning.

He never wanted to watch a sunrise on a train ever again.

It was only a little after nine in the morning now.

He sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

A/N: I really wasn't kidding. Short chapter is short. 299 words. I'm sorry. I'm working on the next chapter right now, and I'm making a lot of progress on it. I only have one class this week, Tuesday morning, so I'll have more time to write this week. Woo!

I promise the next chapter is longer. I'm almost at 1200 words right now, and I've still got a bit more to go.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. And the quotes are italicized. Enjoy!

* * *

After nearly seven hours of travel, Jonathan Crane finally found himself at a motel. He checked his notebook and confirmed this was the right building. As he moved toward the front door, he pulled the bill of the hat down and pocketed the notebook.

The door opened with an irritatingly cheerful ring, grabbing the attention of the man behind the counter. He offered a warm smile and fully faced the lanky man at the door. "Welcome, sir," he said in a friendly voice.

Jonathan remained in the doorway for a lingering moment. His eyes were drawn to the large clock on the wall. It was a little after one in the afternoon. The next train to Gotham didn't leave until around six. They'd have to catch a bus back to the train station no later than four. Three hours; only three hours to attempt to get Jervis's mind clear enough for travel.

He didn't waste another second as his eyes shot to the clerk. The man flinched back under Jonathan's hard eyes. Jonathan cringed inwardly and forced a smile to his lips. "Hello," he said in mock-friendliness.

The man seemed to relax and his smile returned. "What can I do for you today? Are you looking to book a room?"

Jonathan approached the counter casually. "Actually, I'm supposed to meet someone here," he said. "He's a friend of mine, an Englishman."

Almost instantly, the man's smile faded; a feeling of dread coursed over Jonathan. "Oh yes," the clerk said with a nod, "Mr. Carroll."

Crane could hardly bite back the smirk that threatened to appear. How utterly typical; even when Jervis was in such a state of psychosis, he could still give his most-used alias. "Yep, Lewis," he replied. "Which room is he in?"

The man pointed to his right. "Down the hall, take a left. Room 16." He paused to look back at Jonathan, a concerned look on his face. "He seemed really nervous about something," he said in a quieter tone, trailing off in hopes that Jonathan would clarify what was going on.

Jonathan chose not to respond. He looked off in the direction the man pointed in. "Thank you," he said before he turned and headed off, leaving behind the confused clerk.

A quick walk down the hall and a turn to his left led him to the right room. He paused before it and stood in silence, merely listening for anything going on inside the room. He could hear nothing.

Slowly, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. "Jervis," he called softly. He hoped that he'd answer at the sound of his voice.

He finally heard some soft shuffles coming from inside the room. He strained to hear more.

"..._'What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied_," came Jervis's quiet voice through the door. "_'There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.'_"

When Jervis fell silent, Jonathan realized he was waiting for him. He cursed himself for remembering the quote, but he continued it. "_'The further off from England the nearer is to France,'_" he recited.

A long, heavy silence passed before Jonathan heard things being moved away from the threshold. The door creaked open only a crack, revealing a shadowed room.

"_'Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance,'_" Jervis mumbled in conclusion from somewhere behind the door, hidden from Jonathan's sight. Another brief silence passed before Jervis spoke again. "...hello, Jonathan."

"Hello, Jervis," Crane replied in a gentle tone that surprised himself. "Can I come in?"

The door remained motionless for a long moment. Finally, Jervis slowly pulled the door open, keeping himself hidden behind it.

Jonathan found himself staring at a darkened, messy motel room. The lights were off and the blinds were shut save for a few single disheveled lines. The sunlight that shone through those few openings lit the room enough for Jonathan to see. As he stepped through the doorway, he found the easily-movable furniture off to the side; he realized that Jervis had barricaded the door. The dresser drawers were each pulled out at different lengths. He found what was thankfully not Jervis's infamous top hat, but one of his Irish caps on top of the dresser. The standard cheesy paintings that seemed to decorate every motel, dentist office, and doctor's office were taken down and stood leaning against the wall, the backs facing out.

He didn't even have a chance to look at the complete chaos that was the room when he heard the door close behind him. He finally turned and looked at Jervis.

The first thing he noticed was that the Englishman hadn't shaven in the past few days. Jervis always shaved; he had always said that he hated stubble, as it made him look scruffy, which simply wouldn't do. His hair looked like it had dried without being brushed, wild and in his eyes.

His eyes themselves were wild.

Jonathan stood rigidly, just staring down at the blonde man with observant eyes and unable to think of anything to say.

Jervis refused to look up at him, his eyes darting around the floor of the room. His hand remained on the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip, as if the knob was keeping him tethered to the room. He was dressed normally enough, although he did look like he had just rolled out of bed. It was a strange observation, due mainly to Jervis looking like he hadn't slept in days. He stood with his shoulders hunched up and his head bowed, facing the furniture piled up next to the doorway.

He swallowed. "...thank you for coming, Jonathan," the Englishman said in a tiny voice.

The auburn haired man finally shook himself out of his stupor and blinked. His eyes left Jervis to examine the room again. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?" he asked after a long moment. He took off his hat.

He felt Jervis move by him. He watched Jervis's retreating back as he shuffled to the dresser.

Jervis began fiddling with the Irish cap with nervous fingers. His eyes lifted to the wall for a moment before turning to Jonathan. "How was your trip?" he inquired.

Jonathan returned Jervis's stare for a moment before he glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand in front of the mirror. He felt his brow furrow slightly when he found it turned around, facing the mirror. In the reflection, he saw it was 1:18.

"Fine," Crane answered as he turned to look back at Jervis. "Now, what's going on?"

"I'd offer you some tea," Jervis continued, oblivious to Jonathan's question, "but I didn't think to bring any." His eyes lowered to the ground and he mumbled "I could go for a cup of tea right about now" under his breath.

As Jervis began to shuffle off deeper into the room, Jonathan opened his mouth to say something. The words caught in his throat when Jervis stopped and shot the mirror a suspicious glare and turned around to walk toward the lanky man. Jonathan gave Jervis an odd look and tried a different approach. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"'cause I have a headache like you wouldn't believe," Jervis responded without missing a beat, sounding completely exhausted. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared down at the carpet. He wrung his hands nervously.

Jonathan grabbed one of the chairs next to the doorway and put it in front of Jervis. He sat himself down and stared at the blonde man, keeping his mouth shut. Time was against them, but he knew he couldn't pressure Jervis into talking. Jervis would talk when he was ready.

They spent a solid five minutes in silence; Jonathan counted.

"I'm sorry," Jervis finally whispered, not once lifting his eyes. He continued to wring his hands together.

"For what?" Jonathan asked softly.

Jervis swallowed. "For making you come out here," he answered quietly. He risked gazing up at Crane. "I didn't mean for you to come out here when I called."

Jonathan shrugged. "Don't worry about it." He kept his eyes on Jervis. "So...do you want to tell me what happened?"

Immediately, Jervis began to nibble on his bottom lip and his eyebrows furrowed over his worried eyes, which shot straight back to the ground. "...it's like I said," he mumbled, "I saw something in the newspaper." His wringing hands began to shake slightly.

"What did you see in the newspaper?" Jonathan pressed.

Jervis's eyes traveled to his hands, the worried look morphing into an almost vacant stare. "..._'There was nothing so **very** remarkable in that'_," he began quietly, "_'nor did Alice think it so **very** much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!' (when she thought it over afterward, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it seemed quite natural)..._"

While Jervis recited from his beloved book, Jonathan had leaned back in his seat and interlaced his fingers. He tapped his thumbs together, listening to the quote with attentive ears.

Jervis looked up at Jonathan suddenly, his eyes intense and completely serious. "_'But when the Rabbit actually **took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket**, and looked at it, and then hurried on'_—" Jervis's hands were becoming quite animated now, gesturing wildly to accentuate his story. "—_'Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it...'_"

When he stopped quoting, his hands froze in mid-air. He stared at Jonathan with eyes that burned with intensity, like he believed every word he had just said, despite them coming from a book as odd as Alice in Wonderland.

Jonathan stared directly back at him, completely straight-faced. He saw the moment when the doubt returned to Jervis's mind; the blonde's eyes lowered and his hands had relaxed. That worry crept back into his eyes and his hands had started to tremble ever-so-slightly.

With a self-defeated exhale, Jervis buried his face into his hands.

"So," Jonathan began, staring at Jervis's slouched form, "you thought you saw the White Rabbit, and you followed him."

Without removing his face from his hands, Jervis nodded.

"And you took the train to follow him."

Another nod.

"What made you get off the train where you did?"

Jervis sat frozen for a long moment. His hands slowly ran down over his face and came to a stop over his mouth. He gave Crane an exhausted stare before he returned his hands to his lap, where they began to wring nervously again. "I lost him," he finally answered. "I didn't see him anymore, which I thought meant I had reached where I needed to be." His eyes left Jonathan and shifted off to Jonathan's right, where the dresser stood. "I got off the train and started looking for some sort of clue as to where he went. I started wandering around."

He went rigid. "That's when I saw the tears."

Jonathan felt an eyebrow rise. "Tears?"

Jervis offered a numb nod. "The Pool of Tears. There wasn't a Mouse in sight, and I didn't want to be drowned in a pool of tears. _'That **would** be a queer thing, to be sure!'_" He shook his head at the quote, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He opened them back up, looked at Crane, and continued. "That's when I saw the Cats. I thought to myself, 'here now, I'll find out which way I should go.'" He leaned forward on the bed, becoming animated again. "And the most curious thing happened! To my great surprise, '_they all **thought** in chorus (I hope you understand what **thinking in chorus** means-for I must confess that I don't), 'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.'_"

He leaned back, an unsettling grin beginning to form. "It really was strange, Jonathan, but they seemed to know what was going on, so I walked up to them. _'Cheshire Puss,'_ I said, _'Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here? So long as I get **somewhere**.'_" He shifted his weight on the bed slightly, looking far too excited about this for Jonathan's liking. "They pointed me in the right direction, and I was off again, on my search."

Jonathan sat in the now quiet air, staring at Jervis and trying to make sense of the nonsense he had just spewed. A bunch of cats told him to get on the bus to get here? Whatever it was, he was now on the bus in the tale.

Before he was able to get off a question, Jervis's face had taken on a look of confusion and worry. "I don't remember what made me get off the bus..." he murmured, his eyes turned downcast, but unfocused. "I just...got off. I have no idea how long I had traveled, or how far, or that I had traveled at all at first. It was like I just kind of snapped awake, and I was outside with a bag in an empty bus stop." His hands started trembling again. "It was really quiet, and it had gotten quite dark. I hadn't even noticed that the sun was long-gone. I had started looking around for the Rabbit, and I couldn't find him. The Cats had vanished by this point, and I knew they wouldn't reappear. I was in a completely unfamiliar place, and completely alone." He paused to take a shaky breath. "I-I just started wandering around, looking for something I could recognize. I couldn't."

He swallowed with some difficulty. "There wasn't anyone around to ask where I was. I had no idea what had happened to everyone. It couldn't have been that late... I just wandered around, trying to make sense of my surroundings."

He continued to stare down toward the floor, growing more and more frightened. His hands had stopped wringing themselves during his tale and had traveled up his arms to wrap around his chest in a tight hug. His shoulders had become hunched again and he rocked slowly back and forth on the bed.

"...I don't know how long I was walking around. I think I was on my way out of town when I suddenly stopped on the sidewalk beneath a streetlamp. I don't know what made me stop, but I turned and saw it." A tremble ran over him. "The Looking-Glass...I saw myself in it, or the Looking-Glass version of me, I suppose..._'and stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!'_" His eyes were darting around the floor again. "I-It just came out of nowhere, in—through the Looking Glass, and I heard it behind me! I whipped around and stared at the flaming eyes, disappearing into the darkness. I knew it would come back, so I took off as fast as I could to the first lit building I could find."

"Here," Jonathan said, speaking for the first time in a while.

Jervis managed a nod, still trembling terribly. "...I think I may have scared the man at the front desk. I came crashing through the door and slammed it behind me and turned to stare out the window, trying to catch my breath. I hadn't seen him, and when he asked if everything was alright, I whirled around and stared at him. Scared me half to death, he did... He asked if I wanted a room as I walked up to the counter. He was in the middle of playing a card game. I was staring down at Five and Seven when he asked how long I was planning on staying...I said Two. It only made sense, after all."

"Of course," Jonathan said for the sake of continuing the story.

"Anyway...as soon as I got in here, I called you," Jervis concluded, his eyes returning to Jonathan at long last.

Jonathan blinked. "As soon as you got into this room?" he repeated.

Jervis nodded.

Jonathan had done some research on the bus schedules when he had gotten off the train. They didn't run past midnight around here... Jervis had called around 1:10 AM. Had he really wandered around in the dark for a little over an hour, if he had, in fact, caught the last bus to Hammond?

"Did you say that the sun had gone down while you were on the bus?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't remember," Jervis mumbled, his eyes lowering again.

'He could have been wandering around this place for hours,' Jonathan thought to himself. He glanced back over at the backwards clock on the nightstand. "Jervis," he began as an idea struck him, "when did you get on the train?"

Jervis shrugged. "I don't know. I kind of just caught the first train leaving the station."

"Was the sun still up when you talked to the cats?" Jonathan pressed.

The blonde man looked off, thinking. "...I think so." He paused to glance at Jonathan. "Why?"

"How much time passed between the phone call and me getting here?"

"Why?" Jervis asked again, sounding both irritated and frightened.

"What time is it now?"

Jervis froze again, staring at Jonathan with worried eyes. His eyes shot to the alarm clock, but he made no move to turn it. "...I don't know," he said in a tiny voice.

"No," Jonathan said, lifting himself from the chair. Jervis held his breath as Crane moved in front of the mirror and picked up the clock. He turned it for Jervis to see the numbers. "Tell me what time it is."

Jervis stared at the contraption for a few seconds before he looked up at Jonathan. He finally lifted an arm and smacked the clock from Jonathan's hands. It hit the nighttable with a loud noise and dangled by its cord over the edge.

As Jonathan's eyes moved from the clock to Jervis, the Englishman was now holding his head, leaned forward on the bed.

"..._'I told you butter wouldn't suit the works'_..." Jervis whispered after a long moment.

"You have no sense of time, do you?" Jonathan asked.

A length of silence went by before Jervis spoke again. "I think I am literally two days slow, Jonathan," he said in a shaky voice. "I've been murdering the time...they've said so."

Jonathan thought it best not to ask who. His eyes remained on Jervis for a long moment. He finally turned and put the alarm clock back on the nightstand. He turned back around and was about to say something when he saw the paintings on the floor again. "Is there a reason why you took the paintings down?" he heard himself ask.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw Jervis uncurl himself enough to shoot a glare to the closest painting. "_'Alice didn't like being criticised...'_" was all he said.

Jonathan didn't have to turn the paintings around to know that they were flowers. He felt his shoulders slump. It seemed like anything that could be connected to Carroll's books was happening in Jervis's psychotic state of mind. With his lapse in time, there was no way of knowing just how long this was going on. Had he been this delusional during the past week, or had things taken a more serious turn in the past twenty-four hours? There was simply no way of knowing—

"Oh dear!" Jervis suddenly cried out, startling Jonathan from his thoughts. The two locked eyes. "I missed our heist, didn't I?" Jervis asked in thankfully a quieter voice.

Jonathan nodded. "It was supposed to be two days ago."

"Oh, good heavens," Jervis huffed angrily. "I told you I was two days slow." He sighed and looked back down at the carpet. "I'm sorry."

Jonathan shrugged off the apology again. "Don't worry about it," he replied.

Jervis managed a shaky chuckle. "This has really gotten out of hand..."

"Yes," Jonathan agreed. "Do you think you are going to be okay to travel in your condition?"

The Englishman was silent for a moment as he turned and looked up at Jonathan. "Condition?"

"You are clearly having a psychotic episode," Jonathan explained. "All of those things you just told me about...the White Rabbit, the Cats, murdering time...none of it is real, Jervis."

"But I saw all of it, heard all of it!" Jervis protested. "I swear to you, Jonathan, it was all there."

"You saw it and you heard it, but it wasn't real, Jervis," Jonathan insisted. "You are hallucinating. It's all in your head."

Jervis sat staring at Crane. He looked like he disbelieved Jonathan, but he looked like he doubted his own narrative. Jonathan found a little relief at that; if he was doubting his own thoughts, he still was holding onto that shred of sanity that had been reintroduced to him last night.

The blonde man finally sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "I don't know what I should believe, my own eyes, or the psychologist analyzing me."

"How about the friend trying to help you?" Jonathan asked, surprising himself. His remark seemed to surprise Jervis, too. He tried to ignore the comment and continue. "We have a two hour bus ride ahead of us. Do you think you'll be okay to travel?"

Jervis blinked and glanced toward the door, looking uneasy.

"I'll be with you the entire time," Jonathan said. "There is nothing to be afraid of."

Jervis chuckled again. "The Master of Fear, telling me not to be afraid." He paused and shifted his eyes back to Jonathan. "...alright."

* * *

A/N: You have no idea just how much fun I had writing this chapter. I've had different parts of the Lewis Carroll books in my head, just waiting to be turned into something like this. Some of the references will be explained in the coming chapters, but some will not. This is my first real attempt at writing something this in depth, this psychological. I hope I did okay...I've never written madness quite at this magnitude before.

Long chapter is long. Hee hee, the others won't be as long as this. I have not started the next chapter yet, but I know exactly what is going to happen. I hope to work on it sometime this weekend. I don't have class tomorrow night, but my sister and I are going to watch the RiffTrax to _The Dark Knight._ It is going to be AWESOME.

Anyway, thank you for reading! Feedback is always welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. And the quotes are italicized. Enjoy!

* * *

The sound of shuffling cards was the only noise that could be heard in the motel lobby. The clock ticked silently on the wall, the hour hand about halfway between the two and three. The clerk returned his attention from the time back to his card game. Anything to help pass the time until business picked up later in the afternoon...

He was maybe halfway through his game of solitaire when he heard footsteps coming from his right. He looked up to see Mr. Carroll and the tall newcomer walking down the hall. "Checking out, Mr. Carroll?" the clerk asked in a friendly tone once the two had reached the front counter.

Jonathan tossed the room key onto the surface. "Yes," he replied.

The clerk refrained from raising an eyebrow when Jonathan answered for Jervis. He looked around Jonathan to the Englishman hiding behind him. "Mr. Carroll, are you alright?"

Jervis kept his head down, his face hidden under the bill of his Irish cap. His blue eyes remained locked with the floor. He seemed focused solely on the pattern in the tiled floor; the clerk's words went unheard.

"He's fine," Jonathan answered. "Is there anything else that needs to be done to check out?"

"Are you sure?" the clerk pressed, still looking at Jervis. "Mr. Carroll—"

"He's fine," Jonathan said forcefully, barely hiding the irritation in his voice. He didn't like this man's curiosity, and he didn't like that he was stalling them. "Is there anything else—"

"Why don't you let the man answer?" the clerk interrupted Crane, finally glancing up at Jonathan. He ignored the murderous glare he was given and looked back at the man in question. "Mr. Carroll?"

The pattern in the floor was beginning to hurt his eyes. His head throbbed aggressively before Jervis tore his gaze away.

"Mr. Carroll?"

Jervis jumped and his eyes shot to the clerk. They made eye-contact for a split-second before Jervis shifted his vision to the counter. He noticed the card game.

"Mr. Carroll," the clerk began, glad that he had finally gotten the man's attention, "are you okay?"

The game of solitaire filled Jervis's attention. His eyes followed the stacks of paper, drifting over shapes and numbers of red and black, until he spotted one letter and one shape.

Jonathan watched with a sense of dread as Jervis reached over the counter and grabbed a single card. The clerk made a noise of objection, but the sound was lost to both men. Crane held back a groan when the blonde started quoting.

_"The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer day..."_

As Jervis brought the card up close to his face and began pacing slowly around the front lobby, still quoting word-for-word from his beloved book, the clerk shot Crane a glare. "What is going on?" he demanded.

Between the lines of dialogue coming from behind him and the string of questions and demands being presented to his face, Jonathan felt the beginnings of a headache. He clenched his fists in irritation, so eager to gas the man and be done with him. He restrained himself and whipped around to glare at the Englishman.

"Jervis, give him his card back."

"...Jervis?"

Jonathan's eyes widened for a moment. A long string of obscenities screamed in his head, but he kept quiet. He turned back around to face the clerk, looking straight-faced.

The clerk's eyes traveled back and forth between the two men. He looked like he had a million more questions, but before he could vocalize any of them, he heard Jervis.

"..._'I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation: 'I've none of my own. I'm a hatter.'_"

As the clerk's eyes widened, Jonathan flicked his wrist at the man's face. Gas shot out from his sleeve, surrounding the man's head in a cloud of toxin.

Jervis was snapped from his Carroll-spiel with a start by a blood-curdling scream. He dropped the card and his hands shot over his ears, trying to drown out the cries of fear.

Crane jumped the counter and forced the terrified clerk to the ground. The screaming was quickly stifled as he gagged him. Jervis uncovered his ears and glanced at the Scarecrow as he jumped back over the counter.

"Come on," Jonathan said, ushering Jervis toward the door. He flipped the sign on the entrance to "Closed" and they stepped out the door, leaving behind a cheerful ring and muffled screams.

* * *

A/N: I really do love the card game motif from Alice in Wonderland. This is the second time the motif has occurred in this story. The first time was in Ch. 3, and it may be a little obscure.

Sorry I couldn't get this out sooner. School has been keeping me busy. This week ought to be a little slower, school-wise. The same cannot be said for my work schedule. *grumble* But yes, here you go! Feedback is always welcome, and as always, thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. And the quotes are italicized. Enjoy!

* * *

With a loud, unsettling noise, the bus ran over yet another pothole. The passengers bounced with the bus, moving from right to left in unison. Jonathan looked up with a scowl from his notebook toward the front of the vehicle, but kept his thoughts to himself.

He glanced over at Jervis, who had been silently staring out the window the entire trip. He looked like he had been dozing off for the past twenty minutes or so, his head rolling loosely on his shoulders. Each time the bus went over a bump, his eyes would open and he'd look blearily out the window at the passing scenery before he'd go back to fighting to keep his eyes open. Jonathan supposed he was right in his earlier assumption that the blonde man hadn't grabbed a minute of sleep in the past few days. He had to be tired, what with all of the traveling and the roller coaster of emotions he'd been through, not to mention whatever hallucinations or nagging delusions of Wonderland he was being plagued by.

He watched Jervis struggle to stay awake for a moment longer before he glanced out the window. They were driving into the city the train station was at. As the bus pulled into the station, Jonathan cautiously poked the dozing blonde in the shoulder. "Wake up. We're here."

Jervis shifted in his seat and opened an eye. "Where's 'here'?" he mumbled incoherently as he looked at Crane.

"Where the train station is," Jonathan replied, glancing toward the front of the bus where the doors had just opened. He saw Jervis peer out the window out of the corner of his eye, but he focused on the people around them standing and preparing to leave. "Come on, Jer—"

He stopped mid-sentence when he heard Jervis's breath catch. He turned and glanced down at the rigid man next to him, staring out the window with wide, panicked eyes. Jonathan's eyes shot to the window and scanned the scenery. They came to rest on horizon, where a body of water sat.

The Pool of Tears...

Jonathan looked back down at the blonde and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's all right," he said in a low voice. "You'll be fine."

"_'...and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water,'_" Jervis said in a low, terrified whisper.

Jonathan felt himself frown. "It's all _right_, Jervis," he said more forcefully. When the Englishman turned and gave him an uneasy look, he patted his shoulder. "I'll be right here with you, okay?"

Jervis stared at Crane for a lingering moment before he glanced back out the window at the water in the distance. He nibbled on his bottom lip, but at least he wasn't quoting. He finally swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "...o-okay," came the quiet response.

"Okay," Jonathan repeated, giving Jervis another pat on the shoulder. "Let's go."

The two were the last ones to get off the bus. Everyone had already gone off on their own way when they reached the landing of the station. Jonathan looked around for a sign that would lead them back to the train station as he pocketed his reading glasses. Jervis kept close to the taller man, his cap pulled low over his eyes, which were constantly on the move. He turned and looked at the bus driver, who had gotten off the bus. As the driver walked down the length of the elongated vehicle, Jervis's eyes followed until he was staring at the middle of the bus.

He felt himself break into an excited grin. "Chesire Puss!"

Jonathan looked over his shoulder as Jervis moved away from him and walked up to the advertisement on the side of the bus. "_'I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.'_" The blonde man turned and gazed back at Crane. "See, Jonathan! I was right!"

A skeptical eyebrow raised on Jonathan's face, but it went unnoticed as Jervis had turned back around and had begun a conversation with the advertisement. His eyes left the blonde and went to the advertisement. It was a picture of a few cats, and above the photo were the letters SPCA; it was an ad to adopt a feline friend.

Jonathan gave Jervis a concerned eye before he turned and continued looking for a sign. When he found one, he approached Jervis. "Come on, Jervis, we need to go," he said quietly.

"_'It belongs to the Duchess: you'd better ask **her** about it,'_" Jervis said to the painted cats.

The auburn haired man took hold of Jervis's arm and gently pulled him away from the advertisement. "We need to go," he said again, "we'll be late."

"Oh dear!" Jervis finally tore his eyes away from the SPCA ad and looked up at Crane with a panicked expression. "_'Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!'_"

"Jervis." Jonathan put his other hand on Jervis's other shoulder and stared at him, straight in the eye. "I need you to calm down," he said in a low voice. "No one will be savage, okay? Just stay with me, Jervis, and you'll be fine."

The Englishman stared back at Crane for a long moment before he turned and glanced back at the bus. When he turned back around, he looked Jonathan straight in the eye for a moment, looking deeply concerned and confused, before glancing down at the hard ground. He nodded, but said nothing.

Jonathan straightened and released his hold on Jervis. His eyes darted to the advertisement once more before he led Jervis away. "Come on," he said gently.

As they walked through the city, Jonathan kept his eyes on the move for anything that would trigger a reaction from Jervis. He was sure to keep his blonde friend as far from the water as possible and away from mirrors. He didn't have Carroll's books memorized from cover to cover like Jervis did, but he had a good enough understanding of the stories to know what to avoid. That, and he had Jervis's tale of his trip fresh in his mind. They only had a little over an hour and a half to wait before the train would arrive. Once they were on the train, Jonathan hoped that Jervis would just fall asleep. Until then, however, Jonathan would have to keep Jervis calm and quiet, and the only way to do that would be to keep him away from Wonderland-related objects.

* * *

"I'm sorry," came Jervis's muffled voice when Jonathan had returned from buying the tickets.

Jonathan stared down at Jervis's curled body on the bench, holding his head in his arms while leaning forward. "Stop apologizing," Jonathan said as he sat down next to the blonde's trembling form, "this isn't your fault. I should have remembered they have flower stands at places like this."

"It shouldn't matter," Jervis said in a frightened whisper as he sat up. He looked like he was trying to keep himself composed, but he trembled terribly. He kept his eyes low and began twisting the ends of his sleeves in his hands. "None of this should be happening... You shouldn't have come out here to get me."

When Jonathan glanced over at him, Jervis looked like he wanted to apologize again. He resisted the urge to make a face and pulled his reading glasses from his pocket. "Don't worry about it," he said as he put on his glasses and started to study the tickets.

Jervis gazed over at Jonathan. "But I feel bad about it," he said quietly.

"Well, at least you don't feel good about it," Jonathan replied offhandedly without looking away from the tickets.

That got a chuckle out of the Englishman, albeit a little one. He relaxed and released the ends of his sleeves only to begin tapping his fingers together nervously. "If it's gotten to the point where you are starting to crack jokes, Professor, I should be feeling worse than I do now."

Jonathan cracked a grin.

* * *

Hazel eyes lifted from the book in Jonathan's hand as he peered over at the train-hand who was passing through. Crane watched the man in uniform disappear behind a door before he felt himself let out the breath he was holding. They were only maybe halfway to Gotham, and he was getting anxious. Leaving Gotham by train was one thing; taking the train INTO Gotham was something else entirely, especially if they were going to be getting into the city after midnight.

Jonathan blinked tiredly and glanced around the collection of empty booths before his eyes settled on Jervis. The Englishman was across from him, curled up against the wall of the train with his eyes shut. It looked like he had finally fallen back asleep again, but how long he stayed asleep this time was a mystery.

He didn't like this. He didn't like the fatigue from traveling all day on three hours of sleep. He didn't like feeling this anxious about arriving into Gotham. And he most _**certainly**_ didn't like—

He was startled from his thoughts when Jervis startled awake again, his eyes flying open and a panicked expression on his face. He looked like a haunted man, his dreams plagued by horrific sounds and grotesque images. It was the kind of look Jonathan usually strived to see on his victims' faces; on Jervis, it looked wrong.

He didn't like that.

Jonathan didn't move in his seat. He simply kept his eyes on Jervis, just waiting for what he knew was inevitably coming.

Jervis's eyes suddenly shot to Jonathan; the two locked eyes. Not a word was spoken between them. The only noises in the empty car was that of the moving train and Jervis's frantic breathing. They sat frozen, neither looking away for what felt like hours.

Finally, that look of fear melted off of the Englishman's face, being replaced with a look of placidity. His eyes wandered away from Crane, taking on a glaze of exhaustion again. The tension seemed to loosen in his shoulders and he relaxed, breathing out a shaky and semi-relieved sigh. He shifted in his seat slightly and rested his head against the side of the train again.

When his eyes slipped shut and his breathing had evened out, Jonathan made an irritated face and glared out the window. He didn't like that anyone would be comfortable enough to sleep in front of him, for starters.

But he _**certainly **_didn't like that Jervis found comfort in his very presence.

He felt his expression soften after a moment and his eyes traveled back to Jervis. If he didn't like the fact that Jervis was comforted by him, then why did he continually keep locking eyes with him, telling him through eye-contact alone that he was alright, that he was safe, that things would be okay?

Jonathan let out a frustrated sigh and glanced toward the front of the car. He focused on the electronic sign above the doorway that told the passengers what stop was next. They still had a ways to go before reaching their destination. Jonathan pushed his annoyances with the whole situation aside and focused on the plans of what they were going to do when they got off the train.

One thing was for sure, they were _**not **_taking the train to Gotham City.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for how late this is. I think there is going to be two more chapters to this, maybe three. I'm outlining them.

I wanted to make sure I went back and explained some of the references in Chapter 3. I'm not sure if this is true everywhere, but buses around here had advertisements on them. More references will be explained in the next chapter, hopefully.

Feedback is always welcome, and as always, thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. And the quotes are italicized. Enjoy!

* * *

"Now approaching Milwaukee, Intermodal Station. Please watch your step, and thank you for riding the Empire Builder train. Have a great day."

Jonathan glanced up at the moon shining brightly in the night sky and frowned.

"_'And this was odd,'_" he heard Jervis say in a sleepy mumble, "_'because it was the middle of the night.'_"

Jonathan's frown deepened at the quote as he gave the blonde man across from him a bored look. He rolled his eyes and looked back up at the moon. Jervis was right, though; it was just after midnight. They were a little under two hours by train outside of Gotham, but the next stop would put them too close to the city.

"Let's go," Jonathan finally said as he put his book in his bag.

The words took a moment to sink in, for Jervis's brow furrowed, blinking slowly and looking from the window to Crane. "The voice said we're in Milwaukee," he pointed out.

"We are not taking the train into Gotham," Jonathan declared, looking briefly at the Englishman over the rims of his reading glasses. "We'll drive into the city."

A silent moment went by before Jervis began straightening the cap on his head. "Whatever you say, Jonathan," he sighed, too tired to argue.

The dark sky outside the window was replaced with a brightly lit glass structure. The two villains rocked slightly as the train came to a complete stop inside the station. The doors slid open and they stepped into the cold night air, pausing for a moment on the ramp next to the tracks. Jonathan spotted a sign with an arrow pointing to the parking lot. He took a quick look around the station to see how many other people were present before glancing down at Jervis. "This way," he said in a low voice.

They moved across the platform at a steady pace, Jonathan leading the way. Jervis kept close to the tall man, but his eyes were constantly on the move, scanning the area and studying the glass structure.

They descended a cascade of stairs and reached the parking lot. There were a number of cars scattered across the concrete flat, looking like they hadn't been moved in a few days. The pair walked by a few of the vehicles, Jonathan's eyes searching the windshields of each for any trace of a blinking light. Every so often, he'd glance back at Jervis just to make sure he was still following him.

After a few minutes of inspecting the cars, they stopped next to a dark, older-looking vehicle. Jonathan turned to the Englishman. "Keep watch," he said.

Jervis gave a tired nod. He turned on the heel of his foot in a large, almost dramatic motion and stood guard. "_'The night is fine,' the Walrus said. 'Do you admire the view?'_" he quoted absentmindedly.

Jonathan gave the blonde man an irritated look before he went back to pick-locking the vehicle.

In the few minutes it took to break into the car, Crane had gone from mildly peeved to downright annoyed. He could only take so much Wonderland-related quotes when Jervis was "normal;" it was a whole different story when the Englishman was actually experiencing an episode. His condition seemed to only be deteriorating as the night dragged on and his exhaustion really started to kick in...or was that Jonathan's own lack of sleep coming into play? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was getting annoyed. If he wasn't speaking in quotes, he was humming something from that damned animated film.

He smirked when the lock finally popped. The sound of the opening door stopped Jervis in mid-song as he turned and glanced back at Jonathan.

"Alright, Jervis, let's go," Crane said.

The Mad Hatter blinked rather slowly and turned around to completely face the taller man. He spoke in a completely serious voice, marred only with weariness. "_'Alice's Right Foot, Esq., Hearthrug, near the Fender (with Alice's love).'_"

Jonathan glowered at Jervis.

The blonde man remained motionless for a moment before he began to shrink away from Jonathan's heated glare. "_'Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking,'_" he said in a quietly apologetic voice.

"Would you just get in the car?" Jonathan snarled.

Jervis flinched away from Jonathan, his shoulders hunching and jumping away from the harsh words. He gave the man a pitiful look before moving to the other side of the car without another word.

Jonathan shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He turned to get in the car-

A loud snapping noise followed by shattering glass made him jump. He whirled around and looked at Jervis, who was on the other side of the car, staring down at the ground and looking both bored and mildly troubled. He held his bag in a white-knuckled grip, almost like a weapon.

When Jervis gazed back up to find Jonathan staring at him, he grew nervous. "..._'In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly down into the Looking-Glass room'_," he said worriedly, as if that was any explanation.

As Jervis began to fiddle with his bag, Jonathan's eyes went to where the passenger-side mirror was supposed to be, or where it had been moments ago. He shook his head again and got into the car. He supposed it was better that Jervis had broken off the mirror now instead of flipping out later while he was driving.

Jonathan reached a long arm across the vehicle and unlocked the passenger door. Jervis opened the door as Jonathan exited the vehicle. The vehicle shifted slightly when Jervis hopped into the car. His blue eyes traveled to Jonathan, who had opened the panel above the pedals on the floor of the car, before lifting to the windshield.

A minute passed, followed by another. Jervis finally blinked from his glassy-eyed trance and gazed down at Jonathan, who was growing more and more frustrated in his failing attempts to hot-wire the car.

Crane was about to mutter something obscene under his breath when he heard the car door open. He looked up in time to see Jervis slip out of the seat. "Jervis, stay in the car-" His words were cut off by the door being slammed shut. He straightened immediately and readied himself for a chase. He was caught off guard when the blonde man in question walked straight up to him.

Without so much as looking at him, Jervis lightly placed his hands on either side of Jonathan. He gently pushed the lanky man aside, who moved easily with a curious and suspicious look on his face. The Englishman took off his hat and laid it on the driver's seat before he leaned down. He began fiddling with the wires hanging loosely above the petals.

Within thirty seconds, the engine roared to life. Jonathan watched as Jervis righted himself and stood. The Mad Hatter grabbed his hat, ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, and put the cap back on. As he passed by the taller man on his stroll to the passenger side, the blonde gave him a light pat on the back.

Jonathan stared at Jervis's retreating back, not sure whether to feel insulted or thankful. It really shouldn't have surprised him; technology was Jervis's forte, after all... He just shook his head and hopped into the now-running car. After he shut his door, he took a glance over at Jervis.

The Hatter sat mutely, his unfocused eyes pointed downward. There was something more to his expression, Jonathan felt, than just fatigue. He looked blank, numb.

He didn't have much time to dwell on his thoughts, for Jervis's eyes shifted to Jonathan. The Scarecrow faced the windshield and put the car into drive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Hatter face forward again.

The two villains were on their way in the stolen car in a tense silence.

* * *

The further south the car drove, the cloudier the darkened skies beyond the thickly wooded skyline got. The tension inside of the vehicle had dissipated over the course of the ride thus far. Crane had been driving for the better part of an hour and a half now. They were probably a little over an hour outside of Gotham. Had he taken the highway, they would have been in the city by now. He didn't want to risk anything, though, not tonight. Neither he or his delusional passenger were fit to take any chances tonight.

Jonathan blinked tiredly and shifted his eyes from the unlit back road to his right. The Englishman hadn't said anything in the past ninety minutes, and he had only been lightly dozing for maybe the past thirty of those minutes. Crane wasn't sure if the silence was a good thing or a bad thing...he had reveled in the silence for a bit before he began to get curious. Was it the exhaustion that was keeping him quiet, or was it the madness?

Or was it both?

With a weary sigh, the lanky man returned his eyes to the road before him. A green sign on the side of the road displayed the name Gotham City in white text; they were a little over forty miles outside the city. It wouldn't be long now. His mind began to wander, pondering just what he was going to do with Jervis once they were back in Go-

A sudden pair of bright white lights flashed across Jonathan's face. His eyes shot to the Jeep to his right and no more than ten feet from their car, not yielding from the side road it had been speeding down. The sound of screeching tires on pavement roared through the night as Jonathan twisted the steering wheel to avoid a collision, letting out a loud curse.

Jervis snapped awake as he was tossed around in his seat. His surprised blue eyes traveled to Jonathan as he pulled the car in behind the Jeep that nearly hit them. "What happened?" Jervis asked quietly.

"This ass just cut me off," Jonathan growled, gesturing violently at the windshield for emphasis.

The Englishman gave the driver a slightly puzzled look before he gazed out at the road before him.

His eyes were instantly assaulted by the harsh red glow of the Jeep's brake-lights. He felt his breathing hitch and his body go rigid. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the red smolder before him, coming out of nothing from the darkness. Jervis pressed himself back against the seat, unable to look away. "Jonathan," he began in a tiny, paralyzed whisper, "pull over."

"What?" Jonathan demanded, ripping his glare away from the Jeep to the Hatter.

Jonathan quickly went from murderous to alarmed when Jervis's hands shot to the sides of his head.

"Jonathan, **_PLEASE_** pull over!" Jervis cried pleadingly, his body contorting in an attempt to lean forward. The seat belt locked tightly at the sudden movement. Jervis let out a shriek and slammed his eyes shut. He started to wrestle with the strap across his chest, trying to get it away from him to no avail.

Crane stared at the struggling Englishman for a second longer before he glanced hastily out the windshield. Jonathan quickly reached over and released the seat belt. When Jervis threw the strap away from him with a strangled noise and curled into a ball, Jonathan extended a long arm across the passenger seat and locked the door.

Ignoring Jervis's terrified whisperings, Jonathan pulled the car over onto the gravel shoulder of the road. As he put the car into park, he watched the tail lights of the Jeep vanish into the darkness. The red glow that hugged the surrounding trees evaporated into the night, soon leaving the area lit up by the stolen vehicle's headlights.

Jervis's words finally registered in Crane's mind. He peered down at the emotional mess in the seat next to him.

"..._'The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood'_..."

Jonathan's eyes widened slightly and shot to the windshield, staring after the Jeep that was long gone. His mind went back to the story Jervis told him in the motel, hours earlier. The thing, the Jabberwock, that had driven him into the motel in the first place, that had scared him so terribly, was the back of a _car?_

They both remained motionless for several minutes; the only noise in the still vehicle was Jervis's terrified mumblings. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, Jonathan turned and looked down at the Hatter. "The c-" He caught himself. Jervis went silent at the sound of Jonathan's voice. Crane breathed a quiet sigh. "...It's gone, Jervis."

The man in question didn't move from his curled position for several moments. The movement he began to make didn't offer any comfort to Jonathan; a tremble coursed through the Hatter's body and he took a few shallow breaths.

"...T-That was a _car?_" Jervis asked in painful disbelief.

Jonathan didn't answer for several seconds. He continued to watch the hallucinating man next to him before he slumped minutely. "Yes," he finally replied.

His frown deepened when the Mad Hatter's curled form tightened. The shaking hands that held his head clenched, his messy blonde locks trapped in an iron-like grip.

Jervis drew a quivering breath. "I can't do this," he whispered, his voice both sounding choked and muffled.

The utter despair, the sheer hopelessness, and the brutal honesty in those four words chilled Jonathan to his core. Try all he might, he was unable to think of anything to say. He finally tore his eyes away from the slumped form of the defeated Hatter and put the car back in gear. He pulled the car back onto the road.

Jonathan's mind was racing faster than he was driving. Getting Jervis back to Gotham had only been a fraction of the real problem. How to get his friend back into a state of functionality was the top priority. Delusions he could handle; the combination of the delusions, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation were wearing Jervis down dangerously to the breaking point.

The car continued toward Gotham in a tense silence.

* * *

A/N: Again, I must apologize for how late I am getting this out. Work has been keeping me crazy-busy. Yay for being a part-time worker working full-time, I guess.

Anyway, I've had this last scene in my head since I first started writing this story. I think I was in the car with my sister, on some back road coming home from my Mum's house at night when I saw the glowing red tail lights of the car in front of us. I guess you could say inspiration took hold.

I'd say there should be two more chapters of this bad boy left. I'd like to thank you for reading, and feedback is always welcome.

Happy Holidays!


	7. Chapter 7

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

Also, I am setting this story as if Gotham City is Chicago. That is important. And the quotes are italicized. Enjoy!

* * *

The trees that lined the back roads thinned out before they disappeared altogether. Up above, the sky had become completely clouded over, hiding the stars behind the cover of murk. The blanket of mist overhead was soon tinted in a strange orange color. The horizon glowed ominously, growing brighter with each passing minute in their travels toward Gotham City.

The stolen car sped past the sign welcoming drivers or the people crazy enough to visit this ghastly place. Even at this ungodly hour, there were still a few vehicles on the road.

In the time that had passed since their run-in with the Jeep, not a word had been spoken between the two villains. Jonathan had kept his eyes on the road but his mind on what lay ahead for them both. He glanced over at the blond man in the passenger seat only occasionally. Jervis had finally uncurled himself and sat semi-upright in his seat. He now sat slouched against the door, his forehead resting against the cool glass of the window. He wasn't dozing anymore; he simply stared out the window, a gloomy look in his unfocused eyes.

The Hatter looked up when he realized the car was pulling into a parking lot. He blinked when the neon sign of the store flashed across his face, assaulting his eyes. _A convenience store…? _His exhausted blue orbs left the sign that proudly proclaimed its low prices and its 24-hour pharmacy to look around the parking lot. It was completely empty save for one car: the employee's, no doubt.

As the stolen vehicle came to a rest in one of spaces, Jervis sat himself upright in his seat. He glanced over at Jonathan, who was rummaging through his bag.

Crane pulled a small canister of his fear toxin out from one of the pockets and began readying it on his wrist. As he pulled his sleeve down over his weapon, he looked over at Jervis. "If anyone pulls into the parking lot, honk the horn. I'll be right back."

He waited for the blond Englishman to make some sort of acknowledgment to his request. When he only received a blank stare for several seconds, the Scarecrow opened the driver-side door. He hopped out of the still-running vehicle and shut the door with a slam.

Jervis's eyes followed his lanky friend into the building, looking particularly bored. When he lost sight of him, Jervis's focus and mind began to wander. He looked like he could have fallen back asleep, but he was terrified of what sleep would bring. His mind went back to the horrific images that had haunted his slumber thus far. A slight shiver ran through him and he tried to clear his head.

When his attempts proved unsuccessful, he sighed in defeat. He rubbed his eyes before he looked around the parking lot. Still empty…

A scream emitted from the building, bringing the Hatter's eyes back to the store. The shriek was quickly stifled and the silence of the night was restored. Jervis continued to stare at the building.

A minute passed before Jonathan walked out of the store in a confident and hurried stride. He threw open the door and tossed a paper bag and what looked like a packaged tarp into the back seat before hopping in himself. He didn't say a word to Jervis, who looked at him questioningly, as he put the car in gear.

The car pulled away from the convenience store and back onto the road.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, once they were into one of the really bad parts of the city, Jonathan pulled the car over and killed the engine. Jonathan shoved the paper bag from the store into his bag and grabbed the tarp. He exchanged a brief look with Jervis before they both exited the vehicle. The two swiftly covered the stolen vehicle with the tarp and were quickly on their way to Jonathan's lair.

In a matter of minutes, they came upon the run down pharmacy serving as the Scarecrow's hideout. The moment they stepped into the abandoned building, the rustling of newspaper sounded from underfoot.

The crackling of the paper snapped Jervis from his lethargic daze for only a moment. He came to a standstill and listened with vague awareness to the Scarecrow, who closed the door and walked deeper into the lair.

The lights came on, making the blond man flinch immediately. The slight motion went unnoticed by Crane; he moved deeper still through the area, leaving Jervis alone in the paper cluttered lobby-of-sorts.

When he returned to the room with a glass of water in hand, he found Jervis nudging the papers on the ground with a foot, balancing unsteadily on the other.

The Englishman cocked his head to the side. "_'…and Alice was a good deal worse off, as the March Hare had just upset the milk jug into his plate,'_" he commented in a weary voice before he gazed up at his host.

When Jonathan didn't react to the quote and a silence had passed, the Hatter began readjusting the bag over his shoulder. "Well," he began slowly, "I'm sure you've had your fill of me. Thank you for everything you've done, and I am sorry." He began turning toward the door. "I'll be seeing you—"

"Actually," Jonathan interjected, making the blond man pause. As his blue eyes focused on him, Jonathan suddenly felt uncomfortable. He pushed the feeling down and continued. "…I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be alone right now."

Jervis's eyebrows twitched minutely and his eyes narrowed a fraction.

Jonathan couldn't decipher the look he was being given, which made him anxious. When Jervis kept his mouth resolutely shut, Crane pressed on. "You're welcome to stay here until you are able to function on your own again. It's for the best, I assure you."

The Englishman didn't say anything. He remained glued to where he was standing, simply staring the auburn-haired man down. After a long tense moment had passed, he finally removed the bag from his shoulder and let it drop to the paper-cluttered floorboards.

Jonathan felt a small wave of relief wash over him at this; Jervis didn't put up a fight. The feeling was short lived, however. He was positive the Hatter would object vehemently to what was coming next.

Jervis watched his host with observant eyes, much like a hawk eyes its prey, as Crane removed the paper bag from the inside of his pouch. His eyebrows shot upward and his wide eyes locked on the two pill bottles Jonathan produced from the bag. "I do _not_ need medication, Jonathan," he hissed angrily.

"I'm not trying to cure you, Jervis," Jonathan shot back, just as harshly. He held up one of the bottles. "This will just get rid of your hallucinations; it won't do anything to your delusional and Wonderland-obsessed state of mind. That requires therapy, and I don't want to put up with you for _that_ long."

Jervis's enraged eyes narrowed, but he didn't comment on Jonathan's remarks. "And the other?" he growled, crossing his arms.

Jonathan looked at the plastic bottle and back at Jervis. "These are just sleeping pills." When Jervis's expression darkened, he sighed. "Jervis, your lack of sleep is only adding to your psychosis. I know you're afraid to sleep right now, but you need to get a substantial amount of it if you wish to go back to what you call normal."

"I can't sleep, Jonathan, not with all these things swarming around in my mind." The Englishman's voice had lost its angry edge; he sounded openly terrified now. His crossed arms tightened about his chest and his shoulders rose slightly. His eyes lowered to the cluttered ground and a tremble ran over him. "The things I've seen I mostly see in sleep…I wish not to see them more than I do now."

Crane immediately picked up on the note of fear in his voice. Had he been trying to mask his fear with anger? Jonathan's dark eyes went to the bottle containing the sleeping pills for a moment. "This is a really powerful sleeping medication; it ought to knock you out cold. You shouldn't even dream."

Jervis's eyes slowly returned to Scarecrow, a look of suspended hope and slight suspicion written upon his face. He eyed the bottle cautiously. "…you're not just saying that, are you?" he asked in a tiny voice that bordered on pitiful.

Jonathan managed to resist rolling his eyes. "When have you known me to say things for the sake of being comforting?" Jervis looked off, obviously thinking back over the events from their day of travels. Jonathan quickly continued. "The sleeping pills are potent enough. The other medication cements it."

The air between the two was silent for a solid minute. The taller man continued to stare at the smaller one, who was still looking off at something. The Hatter twitched from time to time in response to some unseen stimuli.

A small sigh escape from the Englishman. "Fine."

The weight on Jonathan's shoulders lifted immediately. He finally allowed his eyes to leave his blond friend and return to the pill bottles. As he retrieved the medication from the containers, his mind began to fast-forward to the future. He truly hoped that the medication would at least quell the hallucinations. Delusions were harder to deal with, but Jervis was delusional nearly all of the time. He just hoped that this little escapade would not repeat itself any time soon.

Jonathan approached the small man slowly to keep from startling him. Jervis looked like he had slipped into another daze, his unfocused eyes still lowered. He waited psudo-patiently, making sure that the glass of water and the pills in his hands were in Jervis's peripheral.

Sure enough, Jervis's eyes shifted to the liquid and medication for a lingering moment before they lifted to Jonathan's face.

Jonathan took note of the worried look on the Hatter's face. "You'll be fine, Jervis," he said as reassuringly as he could. "Nothing is going to attack you."

A short duration of time went by before the Englishman's shoulders slumped. It was obvious that he didn't want to take the pills. Did he doubt that they would actually be effective? Jonathan knew that the sleeping pills would knock Jervis out; what he wasn't entirely sure of was if the hallucinations would be put at bay with one dose. If this didn't work, Jervis would doubt that medication would help at all, and things would then have the potential to spiral even more out of control.

Still, Jervis lifted a shaky hand and took the little capsules from Crane's outstretched palm. As Jonathan handed over the glass of water, he felt that discomfort return from before. Jervis really did trust him with this. He had been trying to deal with his madness alone, unknowingly.

Concern flowed through Jonathan anew, mixing with that discomfort and turning the feeling into something he wasn't familiar with. Jervis trusted him with this…he was trusting that Jonathan knew how to help. If this didn't work—

He immediately shot down that train of thought. This was going to work.

It had to.

In the time it took Jervis to swallow the pills, those emotions created an exhaustion that ran rampant through Jonathan. He didn't like feeling this worried or concerned for anyone.

Jervis moved by his host, unaware of the conflicts raging in the Professor's mind. He set the glass of water down on the lab table and turned cautiously to Jonathan. "…are you sure about this?" he asked hesitantly.

The dialogue from outside of his head snapped Jonathan back to the present. He turned and looked at the Hatter, putting on a neutral expression. "Yes," he answered.

The blond man's eyes lingered on Crane as he took a deep breath and exhaled in a sigh. He seemed reluctant to believe it for himself, but if Jonathan was so confident about it… Well, he was the expert in these sorts of things, he supposed.

Jonathan broke his stare from Jervis and looked to the sofa on the other side of the room. "You'd better lie down; those sleeping pills work pretty quickly."

Jervis gazed at the piece of furniture in question. "How quickly?" he heard himself ask quietly.

"_Very_ quickly," Jonathan replied, approaching his guest. He laid a cautious hand on the smaller man's shoulder and led him to the sofa. "With your current state of exhaustion, it should take only a few minutes."

Jonathan waited until Jervis had hesitantly sat down on the sofa before he left the room momentarily. He returned with a blanket, which he placed on the cushion next to Jervis's trembling form. "A good night's sleep will really help you, Jervis," Jonathan reassured him when he saw the ever-present worry in Jervis's downturned gaze.

"'_You might just as well say that "I breathe when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!'_" Jervis replied in a mumble.

Crane didn't react to the quote. He walked out of Jervis's peripheral.

Jervis flinched when the room went dark before he felt his form go rigid. His trembling intensified and he swallowed with some difficulty. The sound of rustling newspapers filled the darkened air, giving Jervis an idea where Jonathan was moving to. The crinkling stopped.

"Good night, Jervis," Jonathan's voice came from the darkness.

Jervis could already feel the sleeping pills taking effect, increasing his exhaustion tenfold. He ran a shaky hand down his face. "…g-good night," he finally replied.

The rustling of the fallen newspapers continued and Jonathan's footsteps disappeared into silence.

Beyond the darkened main room, Jonathan stood motionless in the darkness. He listened intently for any sound to disturb the quiet that had engulfed his hideout. He didn't think that Jervis would try to escape from him, but he didn't want him wandering around aimlessly through his work area in the darkness.

He finally heard Jervis kick off his shoes and the quiet noises of his friend trying to get comfortable on the sofa.

Jonathan remained where he was, completely stationary, for several more minutes. His own exhaustion was growing as a result of the darkness. Still, he waited and listened.

When an unknown amount of time had passed, Jonathan carefully moved as quietly as he could to the doorway leading to the main room. He listened attentively through the darkness. A swell of relief went through him when he heard Jervis's even breathing, signifying sleep.

A soft sigh escaped from Jonathan as he moved silently deeper into his hideout. He didn't know how long Jervis was going to be out. He was sure, however, that he would be awake before Jervis was. He'd have time to prepare for whatever might happen then.

Right now, though, he needed to get some sleep of his own.

* * *

A/N: I know it's been a while since I've updated this piece. I'm sorry. School started back up in January, and it has been keeping me insanely busy.

I think there is going to be one more chapter before I call this piece done. Hopefully it won't take two months to write.

Feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Madness**

I do not own Jonathan Crane (aka The Scarecrow) or Jervis Tetch (aka The Mad Hatter). They belong to DC Comics. Quotes belong to Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass_._ This was written purely for fun. I am going to apologize in advance if I offend anyone. It is not intentional.

* * *

It was a rare night in Gotham when its hours of darkness passed without incident, but it was truly a blessing. The city seemed to breathe a little easier when the sky began to lighten and the first rays of sunlight hit the tops of the towering skyscrapers. Waking up to an alarm clock rather than a police siren was a rare treat; it gave the city a sense of normalcy that very seldom graced its citizens. The morning was blissfully quiet, filled with the domestic regularity they only dreamed of.

It was the sound of a drunk bumbling into a trashcan that startled the Scarecrow awake.

Jonathan's eyes shot open at the obnoxiously loud and slurred curses coming from the alley behind to his hideout. He groaned and flipped over onto his back, letting his eyes fall upon the ceiling in a fixed glare. Judging from the amount of light that snuck past the wooden boards used to close off the windows, he knew it was day. Despite the few hours that had passed, he still felt incredibly exhausted.

Heaving a sigh, he reached over to the wooden stool serving as a nightstand. He grabbed the watch resting upon its surface, preparing to cringe at the absurdly low number the hour hand would be pointing to.

He cringed and did a double take. That was _not_ the number he was expecting to see.

"Eleven?" he exclaimed quietly, now quite awake. He couldn't remember the last time he slept this late, let alone a full eight hours of sleep. _'I guess all that traveling with Jervis wore me out—'_

His mind halted.

Jervis.

Jonathan checked the watch again before he leapt out of bed. He raced swiftly and quietly through his lair toward the open main room. As soon as he reached the doorway, he peered around the corner and his eyes shot to the sofa.

He stood frozen for a lingering moment before he let out a relieved sigh. Jervis was still there, and still asleep. All Jonathan could see from where he was standing was the messy blond mop of hair; the rest of his body was covered with the blanket.

With the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Jonathan now felt completely awake. He glanced down at the watch he was still holding before peering back over at the sleeping villain on his sofa. Jervis would be out for a while yet.

Jonathan turned around and began walking back toward the break room that served as his bedroom. He had a few hours. He needed to think about what lie ahead and begin to make preparations for the worst.

* * *

The beams of light that snuck past the holes in the boarded up windows had traveled a fairly good distance across the room. The day crawled on in silence, leaving the rundown pharmacy in a quiet state of peace. It was peculiar, considering who currently resided in it.

The Scarecrow was seated in the employee lounge, reading a copy of yesterday's newspaper. It was a little disconcerting, how tranquil Gotham was today. He felt somewhat unnerved by it, and subtly motivated to break that calm. He knew he wasn't at the top of his game, though, and that irritated him.

He drew a deep breath in, concentrating on the air going into his lungs and how his shoulders lifted with the inhale. They fell when he exhaled, and he felt some of that desire for criminal intent leave with the expelled breath.

That anxiety from before the trip was returning, he realized. He was really itching to work on his new toxins, but still did not have the proper materials. The notes were just sitting by in his notebook, his toxins just waiting to be made.

"Patience," he murmured under his breath as he flipped to the next page in his newspaper. He wasn't going to blindly commit a crime just for the sake of committing a crime. He needed to plan, which was difficult with this nagging exhaustion. It would be gone soon, no doubt. It was all just a matter of time.

And speaking of time…

Jonathan lowered his newspaper for a moment and listened. There was still no sign of movement from the lobby. He assumed that the medicine would wear off really soon, if it hadn't already. He had guessed the Hatter would have woken up either an hour or two ago or within the next two hours.

It was all just a waiting game at this point, and Jonathan Crane was losing his patience. With a half-aggravated, half-exhausted sigh, he returned to his paper.

* * *

After he had finished yesterday's paper, he snuck out the back of his hideout to grab today's. A smirk crossed his face as he read the story of a robbery at a 24-hour convenience store that had happened early in the morning.

Jonathan was in the middle of completing the daily crossword puzzle when he heard the rustling of newspaper coming from the next room. He straightened in his chair for a moment before he stood and moved toward the doorway.

He found the Mad Hatter awake and seated on the sofa. Jervis was leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees, in a slouched position. His groggy blue eyes were downcast in a half-lidded gaze.

When he heard the sound of paper underfoot, the blond man lifted his eyes to Jonathan. He stared at him for a lingering moment, completely silent. Recognition slowly dawned on his face. "How long was I asleep?" he asked in a voice hoarse from misuse.

"A long time," Jonathan replied.

Jervis continued to stare at the auburn-haired man blearily before ran a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

Jonathan reached into his pocket and retrieved the watch. "You've been asleep for about twelve hours, Jervis."

That seemed to snap Jervis awake. The blond man immediately sat upright. "Are you serious?" he asked, giving the lanky man in the doorway a look of disbelief.

The Scarecrow nodded and looked at the watch again. "Of course I'm serious. It's after three in the afternoon."

"It's that late?" the Englishman voiced quietly, sounding slightly flustered. "I've never slept until three in my life. It's so late in the day…"

As Jervis continued to prattle on about how embarrassed he was to sleep so late, a thought shot through Jonathan's head. His eyes darted to the watch in his hand before they slowly rose in realization. _'His concept of time is back,'_ he thought to himself. _'And all of this talk of lateness hasn't elicited a quote about the White Rabbit.'_

A feeling of vague hopefulness coursed through the Scarecrow's body. He turned to Jervis. "How are you feeling?" he asked suddenly, cutting the Mad Hatter off mid-sentence.

Jervis stared at Jonathan for a moment before his eyes lowered to the paper-cluttered ground. "…better, I suppose…" he said in an unsure tone. He looked back at Jonathan with uncertainty in his blue orbs. "…I think."

Jonathan's shoulders slumped. "You don't know."

The Mad Hatter hung his head and averted his eyes, seeming ashamed of his friend's disappointment.

The auburn-haired man saw the apology on Jervis's lips. Before the Englishman could vocalize it, Jonathan stepped into the room, which made Jervis's head snap up. "I know how to find out."

A startled and nervous expression plastered to Jervis's face as Jonathan walked directly up to him and pulled him to his feet. "H-How?" he managed to stammer, not even caring if he sounded frightened in front of the Master of Fear.

"Just follow me," Jonathan said in a tone that left no room for argument. Jervis allowed himself to be led deeper into the abandoned pharmacy. The lanky man kept a hand on the shorter one's shoulder.

When Jervis realized where Jonathan was taking him, he drew a panicked breath and stopped dead in his tracks. He would have backed away, were it not for the grip Jonathan had on his shoulder. "Jonathan, no, I can't—"

"You have to face your fears, Jervis," Jonathan stated in a bored voice.

"Not in the looking glass," Jervis breathed in a terrified whisper. "Jonathan, I _told_ you, I can't face the looking glass!"

"That was yesterday," Jonathan insisted. "Nothing happened then, and nothing will happen now. Believe me, you have nothing to fear."

"Nothing to fear…" Jervis nibbled on his bottom lip nervously while his fingertips tapped restlessly against each other. "You _do_ realize who you are, don't you?"

Jonathan let out an irritated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Would you just trust me and look in the damn mirror?"

The Englishman flinched and shrunk away from the auburn-haired man, his arms flying up toward his face as if to protect him from the harsh words. His eyes had scrunched shut in the spasm of movement. He opened them to give Jonathan a hurt look before he glanced down the hall toward where the only mirror in the hideout was. He stared at the closed door in front of them before his eyes traveled back up to Jonathan. He gave the tall man a look of uncertainty and nervousness.

A sigh escaped from Jervis. "If you are certain…" he trailed off in a resigned tone.

"Yes," Jonathan said in a gentler voice. "You'll be fine."

Jervis's eyes lowered in defeat for a moment before they arose again to the door looming before them. He drew what should have been a fortifying breath, but it only made him more nervous. "Very well."

Jonathan nodded and approached the closed door. He pushed it open and flicked on the light, illuminating the bathroom. He stepped into the room lined with stalls before he turned and waited for Jervis to join him.

The blond man found himself lingering on the threshold, giving his host an anxious look. He braced himself and took a deep breath of air. He scrunched his eyes closed again, held his breath, and forced himself to step into sight of the looking glass.

A moment of nothingness passed, followed by another. Jervis could feel himself trembling and the pounding of his heart. He listened for anything out of the ordinary. Instead of hearing the noises that had plagued him over the past week, he only heard the gentle buzz of the fluorescent lighting overhead and Jonathan's breathing.

He risked opening his eyes.

He was still facing Jonathan, who stood relaxed with his hands by his sides and his eyes trained on him. The tall man looked to his side and gestured toward where the line of sinks stood.

Jervis slowly let the breath he had been holding out as his eyes lowered to the tiled floor. His eyes slipped shut again as he turned. He swallowed with some difficulty before he drew another breath.

The Mad Hatter forced himself to open his eyes and face the mirror.

The man staring back at him looked weary and worn, rugged and haunted. Crisp blue eyes met his, eyes plagued by fear and exhaustion.

But not madness.

Jervis stared at himself for what could have been a minute, but it felt like ages. He could see Jonathan in his peripheral, his reflection staring at him.

He felt himself let out a shaky sigh of relief. "I…I-I guess you were right," he finally said without tearing his eyes away from his reflection. He heaved another sigh and closed his eyes in reverence.

As Jervis ran a hand over his eyes, Jonathan continued to stare at the blond man's reflection. He allowed the man to have his moment of peace, the first he had experienced since this whole fiasco started. Jonathan slipped his hands into his pockets and waited.

"How did you know?" Jervis asked as he looked directly up at the taller man.

Jonathan watched as Jervis returned his eyes to the mirror. "I haven't heard you quote anything today," he said with a shrug. "That, and your sense of time seems to have returned." His own eyes returned to his own reflection. "It would seem like that medicine and sleep did the trick. You can't go that long without resting your body without some ill effects. Combine that with a psychotic episode, and you've got yourself—"

A sudden gasp escaped from Jervis. Crane's eyes instantly shot down to the Mad Hatter, his mind racing.

He found Jervis still staring at his reflection, his fingertips lightly moving across stubble on his chin. "I look like a ragamuffin!" he spat in utter distaste. He glowered at his reflection for a moment longer before his eyes shot to Crane. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" he demanded before continuing to glare at himself in the mirror.

Jonathan stared down at Jervis for a lingering moment before he looked back at the mirror. He let out a breath of relief. "Your facial hair wasn't exactly at the forefront of my concerns, Jervis," he replied blandly. The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched upward when Jervis shot his reflection a degrading look.

"You let me walk around in public like this," Jervis groaned as his eyes returned to his own reflection. As Jonathan let out an amused chuckle, Jervis turned away from the mirror and looked up at his friend. "You're very cruel," he said in a teasing tone.

"And you are thankless," Jonathan replied in the same manner as Jervis turned to leave the bathroom.

Jervis let out a bark of laughter before he turned and looked back at the Scarecrow. "Am I to thank you for taking me on public transits like this?" He gestured at himself. "Oh, the looks I must have received…"

"The looks you received weren't because of your appearance," Jonathan said solemnly.

"…I know." Jervis sighed and looked down for a moment. His gaze lifted to Jonathan. "Truly, thank you. You may not think much of it, but what you did really means a lot to me. Thank you."

Jonathan managed to not make a face, but he still felt desperately uncomfortable. He looked off. "Don't worry about it. Just…just don't let it happen again. Keep taking those anti-psychotic pills for the rest of the week, before you sleep."

Jervis felt his shoulders slump. "Must I really?"

"Yes," Jonathan urged. "And take them when you start to hallucinate really bad again. I don't want this happening again."

Jervis was about to reply when Jonathan finally met his gaze. The comment caught in his throat when the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. _'He was worried.'_ The thought was bizarre. _'He was truly worried for me.'_

He felt himself smile. "I will," he replied, "I promise."

Jonathan eyed the blond man warily before he nodded. "Good."

The Englishman could feel the discomfort radiating off of his friend. He cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. "I must redeem myself," he declared before he turned and marched back into the main room.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Redeem yourself?" he repeated as he followed.

"Indeed!" Jervis picked up his bag from its place on the ground. "I know how eager you were to start working your toxins, and I quite ruined our last heist. Please, allow me to come up with the next plan to redeem myself."

The Scarecrow stared at the blond man skeptically, watching him prepare to leave. "If you wish," he said reluctantly. "Just keep Wonderland out of it."

A grin spread across the Jervis's face. "My dear Jonathan," he began as he retrieved his Irish cap. He glanced over at his friend and put on his hat, "you _do_ realize who _I_ am, don't you?"

Jonathan felt himself smirk as the Mad Hatter left.

* * *

A/N:_THE END!_

I could give you a million excuses as for why this is so late. I discovered a book series I've been reading since early June, I'm working full-time, I have very little motivation, and I've been working on my own stories. More than anything, conclusions have always been difficult for me. This one is no different.

This fanfiction was an absolute joy to write. I love psychological pieces, and to write one as psychological as this just makes me so happy. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I have. Again, I apologize for how late this is coming out.

Thank you so much for following the story and for all of the reviews. Thank you for reading, and as always, feedback is always welcome.


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